One Shot It's a fucking piece of paper
by FanGirl9890
Summary: Ian doesn't come home till late and Mickey admits to having a problem with Ian working at the club.


It had been a little bit over a year since Mickey came out of the closet. He and Ian moved out from the Southside into a small apartment. Ian got medication to help with his bipolar disorder and continued to work at the club, while Mickey did his 'business' with Kev from home. Dealing with mostly the money side of things, making sure all the whores are getting paid. Their business was booming and was becoming quite popular. They were both making good money.

It was a long night. Mickey was expecting Ian to come home early that night from college, (he went back to school to study mechanics) but all Mickey got was a text saying "Going to be home late. Don't wait up." The thug couldn't help but feel pissed off since he cooked dinner and was planning on spending some alone time with his boyfriend. Maybe watch a movie and make out. They had hardly spent any time together since they were both busy. That night was supposed to be their night.

Around three in the morning, Ian finally came home. He crept through their front door, locking it behind him, and turning on the kitchen light to get some food. He saw that Mickey left a plate of food and ate a couple bites before he put the rest back in the fridge.

The ginger made his way to their bedroom, removing his clothes until he reached the bed and crawled in close to Mickey. Ian wrapped his arms around the boy's waist, cuddling him from behind, but Mickey just shrugged him off.

"Hey…you awake?" Ian whispered quietly.

"Yeah, since your loud ass elephant feet came through the fuckin' door. Thanks for waking me up." Mickey grumbled under his breath, bringing the blanket close up to his neck.

Ian scrunched his eyebrows together and moved away from his boyfriend. He was in a mood. Mad at Ian for not coming home that night. "What's wrong now?" He knew that Mickey would be able to hear his eyes roll from his tone of voice.

"You know what."

"Why don't you use your words Mickey and tell me why you are so pissed off at me." Ian sat up and turned on the lamp on the table beside the bed, and Mickey groaned sitting up to stare at Ian.

"Where were you tonight?"

"I had to work after school."

"You _always _work, Ian."

"We need the money. I made like an extra $250 dollars tonight, which pretty much pays off our overdue bills, might I add."

"Well congratulations, Gallagher. And what about me?" Mickey stared at Ian, his expression not changing. Being in a relationship with Ian changed him, for the better even. He got a lot better at expressing how he feels since Ian always challenged him in doing that.

"What do you mean?" the ginger raised his eyebrow.

"I make money too. I could have easily made that money tomorrow, but you never tell me anything when it comes to our bills. So it's not like I had any idea we were behind. We could have spent the whole damn night doing shit but you were too busy bangin' the elderly."

When Ian and Mickey moved in together they sort of had an understanding that Ian would deal with making sure all the bills were paid, Mickey just had to bring in whatever money he made from the rub and tug to help pay for the bills. Ian was just used to paying bills from living in the Gallagher house.

"Are we seriously having this conversation again, Mickey? If you hate me having this job so fuckin' much just tell me to quit! It's like a damn broken record with you. You tell me to make my own decisions but you bitch and complain every night I come home from work. What the hell do you want from me!?" Ian stood up and slipped on his boxers, walking away from Mickey, but the Thug got up and followed the ginger out of the room.

"I shouldn't have to tell you to quit, fuck!" Mickey yelled at Ian. "What you're doin' is fucked up, man. Getting paid to give old dudes lapdances and to feel you up? Jesus, that's disgusting. You're my boy-" Mickey stopped himself. It had been a over a year and he still wasn't able to say the word boyfriend.

Ian just turned around, arms crossed over his chest and waited for Mickey to finish even though he knew he wouldn't be able to. "And how was that any different from what Svetlana does? She's your bride and she gets paid to give old men blow jobs." Ian said.

"It's different because I don't give a shit what she does. Our 'marriage' is just a fuckin' piece of paper. I might as well be married to you because that feels more real than the damn certificate that tells otherwise." Mickey didn't realize that he had basically said that him and Ian were a married couple, but when he saw Ian's expression change he knew.

"What did you just say?"

"Nothin. Forget it."

The Ginger walked up to the Thug, with a small smile on his face, wrapping his arms around the small of his back.

"You said we're married."

"Yeah, well." Mickey was still pissed off at Ian, but couldn't resist him no matter how much he wanted to punch him in the stomach for being a dumbass. "Don't need to get all excited about it. Relax before you piss yourself from excitement." Mickey huffed and gave in, wrapping his arms around Ian's neck.

"Husband." Ian grinned and rubbed his nose against Mickey's cheek, smiling against his skin.

"Fuck off, Gallagher. I'm still pissed off at you."

"I'll quit tomorrow. I'll find a new job."


End file.
